The Dalton Highway
Our car fully loaded with fresh supplies we leave Fairbanks, Alaska to begin the next part of our journey. We head north on the Dalton Highway, a dirt road that runs 666 kilometres (414 miles) north to the Arctic ocean. It is the most northern highway in America and puts even hardy all-terrain vehicles to the test. Our AWD drive Volvo wagon is outfitted with two spare tires and hopefully everything we will need to survive the journey.
Not far north of Fairbanks, we turn off the Elliott highway, which marks the beginning of the Dalton. As the evening approaches, we stop by a river and begin to set up camp. Grabbing my saw and axe one of my companions and I collect wood to make a fire. With the fire going we prepared a delicious dinner, leaving us tired from the long day of driving. A full moon is rising on the horizon, a pale yellow disc against the blue twilight. With the fire dying down we retreat to the warmth of our sleeping bags.
Looking out my window in the morning I can see that everything has been covered with a layer of frost. The edges of the river nearby has a thin layer of ice on it. We build a fire to warm ourselves while we have breakfast and pack.
Back on the road heading north. the trees grow small and scraggly. the distant snow-capped peaks of the brooks range are on the horizon now, hopefully, there won't be much snow on the roads which isn't uncommon at this time of year. Up into the beautiful snowy capped mountains, we go, the last of the fall colours fading the further we push north. We take our time since we have no real deadline. No job to return to, no house, everything we own is bumping around in the back of this old Volvo wagon, it ain't much. every once in a while my mind wanders off trying to decide where we will go next, where will I work next, it can be both exciting and depressing, but if nothing else it is freeing to know you can go anywhere and do anything.
We are in the mountain pass now the trees have all but disappeared and luckily there is no fresh snow on the road. We are passed by another huge truck that throws golf ball size stones at our window, another big bullseye cracks, the second one today. On the bright side, we haven't blown a single tire yet which is almost a letdown since were are carrying two full-size spares after hearing all the horror stories of 8 flat tires in 10 hours on the Dalton highway. coming down the other side of the pass we enter a new world. At first, it seems like we are on Mars, not much is growing and it is late fall here. In the distance, a pumping station for the Alaska Piping looks like some kind of space station on an alien planet. As we come down out of the mountains the tundra opens up before us, an endless rolling land, not a single tree. It really is a strange sight to see.
We spend the night at a small lake on the tundra. In the morning we continue on only a couple hours from the end of the highway and the arctic ocean now. On route, we spotted three large animals in the distance, we knew they were either muskox or grizzly bears. Luckily on closer inspection, they turned out to be Muskox! I got close enough to take a few photos of them from across a small river. They are such amazing ancient-looking creatures. I can't help but picture them wandering the tundra with woolly mammoths and sabretooth tigers.
Continuing on towards the town of Deadhorse at the arctic ocean we encountered more and more large industrial vehicles, some were so large we had to pull over to avoid the waves of boulders their wheels were tossing into the air. The mountains slowly grew more distant in the rearview mirror as we continued into the seemingly endless rolling muskeg before us. 
Looking out my window in the morning I can see that everything has been covered with a layer of frost. The edges of the river nearby has a thin layer of ice on it. We build a fire to warm ourselves while we have breakfast and pack.
Back on the road heading north. the trees grow small and scraggly. the distant snow-capped peaks of the brooks range are on the horizon now, hopefully, there won't be much snow on the roads which isn't uncommon at this time of year. Up into the beautiful snowy capped mountains, we go, the last of the fall colours fading the further we push north. We take our time since we have no real deadline. No job to return to, no house, everything we own is bumping around in the back of this old Volvo wagon, it ain't much. every once in a while my mind wanders off trying to decide where we will go next, where will I work next, it can be both exciting and depressing, but if nothing else it is freeing to know you can go anywhere and do anything.
We are in the mountain pass now the trees have all but disappeared and luckily there is no fresh snow on the road. We are passed by another huge truck that throws golf ball size stones at our window, another big bullseye cracks, the second one today. On the bright side, we haven't blown a single tire yet which is almost a letdown since were are carrying two full-size spares after hearing all the horror stories of 8 flat tires in 10 hours on the Dalton highway. coming down the other side of the pass we enter a new world. At first, it seems like we are on Mars, not much is growing and it is late fall here. In the distance, a pumping station for the Alaska Piping looks like some kind of space station on an alien planet. As we come down out of the mountains the tundra opens up before us, an endless rolling land, not a single tree. It really is a strange sight to see.
Upon finally arriving in Deadhorse we caught a distant glimpse of the arctic ocean but we were disappointed to learn that we were not allowed to drive all the way to the ocean because a huge industrial oil operation was built up blocking the way.
Deadhorse is the furthest north I've ever been. On the drive back we stopped and did some hiking in the Brooks Range, but we were eager to get to Denali and do some trekking.
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